Get My Tropic Isle 1st Edition E J Banfield Free All Chapters
Get My Tropic Isle 1st Edition E J Banfield Free All Chapters
Get My Tropic Isle 1st Edition E J Banfield Free All Chapters
com
OR CLICK BUTTON
DOWLOAD NOW
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...
https://ebookmeta.com/product/tropic-angel-1st-edition-nate-van-
coops/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/how-to-ice-climb-tim-banfield-sean-
isaac/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/people-collide-1st-edition-isle-
mcelroy/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/my-e-sound-box-jane-belk-moncure/
People Collide: A Novel 1st Edition Isle Mcelroy
https://ebookmeta.com/product/people-collide-a-novel-1st-edition-
isle-mcelroy/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/kissing-my-co-worker-1st-edition-j-
sterling/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/my-forbidden-boss-c-e-ross-
charmaine-ross/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/my-health-3rd-edition-rebecca-j-
donatelle/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/isle-of-wight-slow-travel-1st-
edition-mark-rowe/
E. J. Banfield
My Tropic Isle
goodpress@okpublishing.info
EAN 4064066230173
Table of Contents
PREFACE
MY TROPIC ISLE
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
A PLAIN MAN'S PHILOSOPHY
CHAPTER III
"MUCH RICHES IN A LITTLE ROOM"
CHAPTER IV
SILENCES
CHAPTER V
FRUITS AND SCENTS
CHAPTER VI
HIS MAJESTY THE SUN
CHAPTER VII
A TROPIC NIGHT
CHAPTER VIII
READING TO MUSIC
CHAPTER IX
THE BIRTH AND BREAKING OF CHRISTMAS
CHAPTER X
THE SPORT OF FATE
CHAPTER XI
FIGHT TO A FINISH
CHAPTER XII
SEA-WORMS AND SEA-CUCUMBERS
CHARTER XIII
SOME MARINE NOVELTIES
CHAPTER XIV
SOME CURIOUS BIVALVES
CHAPTER XV
BARRIER REEF CRABS
CHAPTER XVI
THE BLOCKADE OF THE MULLET
CHAPTER XVII
WET SEASON DAYS
CHAPTER XVIII
INSECT WAYS
CHAPTER XIX
INTELLIGENT BIRDS
CHAPTER XX
SWIFTS AND EAGLES
CHAPTER XXI
SOCIALISTIC BIRDS
CHAPTER XXII
SHARKS AND RAYS
CHAPTER XXIII
THE RECLUSE OF RATTLESNAKE
CHAPTER XXIV
HAMED OF JEDDAH
CHAPTER XXV
YOUNG BARBARIANS AT PLAY
CHAPTER XXVI
TOM AND HIS CONCERNS
CHAPTER XXVII
"DEBILS-DEBILS"
CHAPTER XXVIII
TO PARADISE AND BACK
CHAPTER XXIX
THE DEATH BONE
THE END
PREFACE
Table of Contents
Much of the contents of this book was published in the NORTH
QUEENSLAND REGISTER, under the title of "Rural Homilies."
Grateful acknowledgments are due to the Editor for his frank
goodwill in the abandonment of his rights.
Also am I indebted to the Curator and Officers of the Australian
Museum,
Sydney, and specially to Mr. Charles Hedley, F.L.S., for assistance in
the identification of specimens. Similarly I am thankful to Mr. J.
Douglas Ogilby, of Brisbane, and to Mr. A. J. Jukes-Browne, F.R.S.,
F.G.S., of Torquay (England).
THE AUTHOR.
CHAPTER.
CHAPTER I
Table of Contents
IN THE BEGINNING
SHAKESPEARE
How quaint seems the demand for details of life on this Isle of Scent
and Silence! Lolling in shade and quietude, was I guilty of
indiscretion when I babbled of my serene affairs, and is the penalty
so soon enforced? Can the record of such a narrow, compressed
existence be anything but dull? Can one who is indifferent to the
decrees of constituted society; who is aloof from popular prejudices;
who cares not for the gaieties of the crowd or the vagaries of
fashion; who does not dance or sing, or drink to toasts, or habitually
make any loud noise, or play cards or billiards, or attend garden
parties; who has no political ambitions; who is not a painter, or a
musician, or a man of science; whose palate is as averse from
ardent spirits as from physic; who is denied the all-redeeming vice of
teetotalism; who cannot smoke even a pipe of peace; who is a
casual, a nonentity a scout on the van of civilisation dallying with the
universal enemy, time—can such a one, so forlorn of popular
attributes, so weak and watery in his tastes, have aught to recite
harmonious to the, ear of the world?
Yet, since my life—and in the use, of the possessive pronoun here
and elsewhere, let it signify also the life of my life-partner—is
beyond the range of ordinary experience, since it is immune from
the ferments which seethe and muddle the lives of the many, I am
assured that a familiar record will not be deemed egotistical, I am
scolded because I did not confess with greater zeal, I am bidden to
my pen again.
An attempt to fulfil the wishes of critics is confronted with risk. Cosy
in my security, distance an adequate defence, why should I rush into
the glare of perilous publicity? Here is an unpolluted Isle, without
history, without any sort of fame. There come to it ordinary folk of
sober understanding and well-disciplined ideas and tastes, who pass
their lives without disturbing primeval silences or insulting the free
air with the flapping of any ostentatious flag. Their doings are not
romantic, or comic, or tragic, or heroic; they have no formula for the
solution of social problems, no sour vexations to be sweetened, no
grievance against society, no pet creed to dandle. What is to be said
of the doings of such prosaic folk—folk who have merely set
themselves free from restraint that they might follow their own
fancies without hurry and without hindrance?
Moreover, if anything be more tedious than a twice-told tale, is it not
the repetition of one half told? Since a demand is made for more
complete details than were given in my "Confessions," either I must
recapitulate, or, smiling, put the question by. It is simplicity itself to
smile, and can there be anything more gracious or becoming? Who
would not rather do so than attempt with perplexed brow a delicate,
if not difficult, duty?
I propose, therefore, to hastily fill in a few blanks in my previous
sketch of our island career and to pass on to features of novelty and
interest—vignettes of certain natural and unobtrusive features of the
locality, first-hand and artless.
This, then, is for candour. Studiously I had evaded whensoever
possible the intrusion of self, for do not I rank myself among the
nonentities—men whose lives matter nothing, whose deaths none
need deplore. How great my bewilderment to find that my efforts at
concealment—to make myself even more remote than my Island—
had had by impish perversity a contrary effect! On no consideration
shall I part with all my secrets. Bereave me of my illusions and I am
bereft, for they are "the stardust I have clutched."
One confessedly envious critic did chide because of the calculated
non-presentation of a picture of our humble bungalow. So small a
pleasure it would be sinful to deny. He shall have it, and also a
picture of the one-roomed cedar hut in which we lived prior to the
building of the house of comfort.
Who could dignify with gilding our utterly respectable, our limp
history? There is no margin to it for erudite annotations. Unromantic,
unsensational, yet was the actual beginning emphasis by the thud of
a bullet. To that noisy start of our quiet life I meander to ensure
chronological exactitude.
In September of the year 1896 with a small par of friends we
camped on the beach of this Island—the most fascinating, the most
desirable on the coast of North Queensland.
Having for several years contemplated a life of seclusion in the bush,
and having sampled several attractive and more or less suitable
scenes, we were not long in concluding that here was the ideal spot.
From that moment it was ours. In comparison the sweetest of
previous fancies became vapid. Legal rights to a certain undefined
area having been acquired in the meantime, permanent settlement
began on September 28, 1897.
For a couple of weeks thereafter we lived in tents, while with clumsy
haste—for experience had to, be acquired—we set about the
building of a hut of cedar, the parts of which were brought from
civilisation ready for assembling. Houses, however, stately or
humble, in North Queensland, are sacrificial to what are known
popularly as "white ants" unless special means are taken for their
exclusion. Wooden buildings rest on piles sunk in the ground, on the
top of which is an excluder of galvanised iron in shape resembling a
milk dish inverted. It is also wise to take the additional precaution of
saturating each pile with an arsenical solution. Being quite unfamiliar
with the art of hut-building, and in a frail physical state, I found the
work perplexing and most laborious, simple and light as it all was.
Trees had to be felled and sawn into proper lengths for piles, and
holes sunk, and the piles adjusted to a uniform level. With blistered
and bleeding hands, aching muscles, and stiff joints I persevered.
While we toiled our fare, simplicity itself, was eaten with becoming
lack of style in the shade of a bloodwood-tree, the tents being
reserved for sleeping. When the blacks could be spared, fish was
easily obtainable, and we also drew upon the scrub fowl and pigeon
occasionally, for the vaunting proclamation for the preservation of all
birds had not been made. Tinned meat and bread and jam formed
the most frequent meals, for there were hosts of simple, predestined
things which had to be painfully learned. But there was no repining.
Two months' provisions had been brought; the steamer called
weekly, so that we did not contemplate famine, though thriftiness
was imperative. Nor did we anticipate making any remarkable
addition to our income, for the labour of my own hands, however
eager and elated my spirits, was, I am forced to deplore, of little
advantage. I could be very busy about nothing, and there were
blacks to feed, therefore did we hasten to prepare a small area of
forest land, and a still smaller patch of jungle for the cultivation of
maize, sweet potatoes, and vegetables. Fruit, being a passion and a
hobby, was given special encouragement and has been in the
ascendant ever since, to the detriment of other branches of cultural
enterprise.
I have said that our Island career began with an explosion. To that
starting-point must I return if the narration of the tribulations our
youthful inexperience suffered is to be orderly and exact.
While we camped, holiday-making, the year prior to formal and
rightful occupancy, in a spasm of enthusiasm, which still endures, I
selected the actual site for a modest castle then and there built in
the accommodating air. It was something to have so palpable and
rare a base for the fanciful fabric. All in a moment, disdaining
formality, and to the, accompaniment of the polite jeers of two long-
suffering friends, I proclaimed "Here shall I live! On this spot shall
stand the probationary palace!" and so saying fired my rifle at a tree
a few yard's off. But the stolid tree—a bloodwood, all bone,
toughened by death, a few ruby crystals in sparse antra all that
remained significant of past life—afforded but meagre hospitality to
the, soft lead.
"Ah!" exclaimed one of my chums, "the old tree foreswears him! The
Island refuses him!"
But the homely back gate swings over the charred stump of the
boorish tree burnt flush with the ground. Twelve months and a
fortnight after the firing of the shot which did not echo round the
world, but was merely a local defiant and emphatic promulgation of
authority, a fire was set to the base of the tree, for our tents had
been pitched perilously close. Space was wanted, and moreover its
bony, imprecating arms, long since bereft of beckoning fingers,
menaced our safety. I said it must fall to the north-east, for the
ponderous inclination is in that direction, and therein forestalled my
experience and delivered the whole camp as hostages into the hands
of fortune.
In apparent defiance of the laws of gravity the tree fell in the middle
of the night with an earth-shaking crash to the south-east. There
was no apparent reason why it did not fall on our sleeping-tent and
in one act put an inglorious end to long-cogitated plans. Because
some gracious impulse gave the listless old tree a certain benign tilt,
and because sundry other happenings consequent upon a
misunderstanding of the laws of nature took exceptional though
quite wayward turnings, I am still able to hold a pen in the attempt
to accomplish the task imposed by imperious strangers.
And while on the subject of the clemency of trees, I am fain to
dispose of another adventure, since it, too, illustrates the brief
interval between the sunny this and the gloomy that. Fencing was in
progress—a fence designed to keep goats within bounds. Of course,
the idea was preposterous. One cannot by mere fencing exclude
goats. The proof is here. To provide posts for the vain project trees
were felled, the butts of which were reduced to due dimensions by
splitting. A dead tree stood on a slope, and with the little crosscut
we attacked its base, cutting a little more than half-way through.
When a complementary cut had been made on the other side, the
tree, with a creak or two and a sign which ended in "swoush," fell,
and as it did so I stepped forward, remarking to the taciturn black
boy, "Clear cut, Paddy!" The words were on my lips when a "waddy,"
torn from the vindictive tree and flung, high and straight into the
inoffensive sky, descended flat on the red stump with a gunlike
report. The swish of the waddy down-tilted the frayed brim of my
cherished hat!
The primary bullet is not yet done with, for when the tree which had
reluctantly housed it for a year was submitted to the fires of
destruction among the charcoal a blob of bright lead confirmed my
scarcely credited story that the year before the datum for our castle,
then aerial and now substantial, had been established in ponderous
metal.
What justification existed for the defacement of the virginal scene by
an unlovely dwelling—the, imposition of a scar on the unspotted
landscape? None, save that the arrogant intruder needed shelter,
and that he was neither a Diogenes to be content in a tub nor a
Thoreau to find in boards an endurable temporary substitute for
blankets.
It was resolved that the shelter should by way of compensation be
unobtrusive, hidden in a wilderness of leaves. The sacrifice of those
trees unhaply in prior occupation of the site selected would be
atoned for by the creation of a modest garden of pleasant-hued
shrubs and fruit-trees and lines and groves of coconut-palms. My
conscience at least has been, or rather is being, appeased for the
primary violation of the scene, for trees perhaps, more beautiful,
certainly more useful, stand for those destroyed. The Isle suffers no
gross disfigurement. Except for a wayward garden and the most
wilful plantation of tropical fruit-trees, no change has been wrought
for which the genius of the Isle need demand satisfaction.
Though of scented cedar the hut was ceilingless. Resonant
corrugated iron and boards an inch thick intervened between us and
the noisy tramplings of the rain and heat of the sun. The only room
accommodated some primitive furniture, a bed being the
denominating as well as the essential feature. A little shambling
structure of rough slabs and iron walls contrived a double debt to
pay—kitchen and dining-room.
From the doorsteps of the hut we landed on mother earth, for the
verandas were not floored. Everything was as homely and simple
and inexpensive as thought and thrift might contrive. Our desire to
live in the open air became almost compulsory, for though you fly
from civilisation and its thralls you cannot escape the social instincts
of life. The hut became the focus of life other than human. The
scant hut-roof sheltered more than ourselves.
On the narrow table, under cover of stray articles and papers, grey
bead-eyed geckoes craftily stalked moths and beetles and other
fanatic worshippers of flame as they hastened to sacrifice
themselves to the lamp. In the walls wasps built terra-cotta
warehouses in which to store the semi-animate carcasses of spiders
and grubs; a solitary bee constructed nondescript comb among the
books, transforming a favourite copy of "Lorna Doone" into a solid
block. Bats, sharp-toothed, and with pin-point eyes, swooped in at
one door, quartered the roof with brisk eagerness, and departed by
the other.
Finding ample food and safe housing, bats soon became permanent
lodgers. For a time it was novel and not unpleasant to be conscious
in the night of their waftings, for they were actual checks upon the
mosquitoes which came to gorge themselves on our unsalted blood.
But they increased so rapidly that their presence became intolerable.
The daring pioneer which had happened during its nocturnal
expeditions to discover the very paradise for the species proclaimed
the glad tidings, and relatives, companions, and friends flocked
hither, placing themselves under our protection with contented
cheepings. Though the room became mosquitoless, serious
objections to the scavengers developed. Before a writ of ejection
could be enforced, however, a sensational cause for summary
proceedings arose.
In the dimness of early morning when errant bats flitted home to
cling to the ridge-pole, squeaking and fussy flutterings denoted
unwonted disturbance. Daylight revealed a half concealed, sleeping
snake, which seemed to be afflicted with twin tumours. A long stick
dislodged the intruder, which scarce had reached the floor ere it died
violent death. Even the snake spectre did no seriously affright the
remaining bats, though it confirmed the sentence of their immediate
banishment. In the eye of the bats the sanctuary of the roof with an
odd snake or two was preferable to inclement hollow branches open
to the raids of undisciplined snakes. Definite sanitary reasons,
supplemented by the fact that where bats are there will the snakes
be gathered together, and a pious repugnance to snakes as lodgers,
made the casting out of the bats a joyful duty.
So we lived, more out of the hut than in it, from October, 1897, until
Christmas Day, 1903. We find the bungalow, though it, too, has no
ceiling, much more to our convenience, for the hut has become
crowded. It could no longer contain our content and the portable
property which became caught in its vortex.
In the designing of the bungalow two essentials were supreme, cost
and comfort—minimum of cost, maximum of comfort. Aught else
was as nothing. There was no alignment to obey, no rigid rules and
regulations as to style and material. The surroundings being our
own, we had compassion on them, neither offering them insult with
pretentious prettiness nor domineering over them with vain
assumption and display. Low walls, unaspiring roof, and sheltering
veranda, so contrived as to create, not tickling, fidgety draughts but
smooth currents, "so full as seem asleep," to flush each room so
sweetly and softly that no perceptible difference between the air
under the roof and of the forest is at any time perceptible.
Since the kitchen (as necessary here as elsewhere) is not only of my
own design but nearly every part of the construction absolutely the
work of my unaided, inexperienced hands, I shall describe it in detail
—not because it presents features provocative of pride, but because
the ideas it embodies may be worth the consideration of others
similarly situated who want a substantial, smokeless, dry, convenient
appurtenance to their dwelling. Two contrary conditions had to be
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
pris et toute la poissance de l’Escoce ruée jus, dont il avoit eu
esperance que par la guerre que les Escos euissent fait en
Engleterre, li rois englois se fust levé dou siège de devant Calais, or
estoit tout dou contraire, et bien trouvoit qui li disoit: «Chiers sires, il
vous fault ces bonnes gens conforter, car se vous perdés la forte ville
de Calais, ce vous sera mis trop grans prejudisses et à vostre
roiaulme, et aueront les Englois trop biel à venir et à ariver à Calais
et courir en France et là retraire et retourner en lor pais.» Li rois, qui
fu uns moult vaillans homs et moult usés d’armes, car de sa jonèce il
les avoit acoustumées et continuées, consideroit bien toutes ces
coses, et sentoit aussi que on li disoit verité; si en respondoit ensi et
disoit: «Par m’ame et par mon corps, vous avés cause de tout ce
dire, et no uy pourverons; car il nous tourneroit voirement à trop
grant blame et damage, se nous perdions Calais.»
Et avint que, sus l’espoir de reconforter ceuls de Calais et lever le
siège, li rois de France fist un très grant mandement de chief en qor
son roiaulme, et dist que il ne voloit fors guerriier des gentils
hommes dou roiaume de France, et que des conmunautés amener
en bataille, ce n’est que toute perte et empecemens, et que tels
manières de genz ne font que fondre en bataille, ensi conme la nive
font au solel; et bien avoit aparu à la bataille de Crechi, à la Blanqe
Taqe, à Kem en Normendie et en tous les lieus où on les avoit
menés, et que plus il n’en voloit nuls avoir, fors les arbalestriers des
chités et des bonnes villes. Bien voloit lor or et lor argent pour paiier
les coustages et saudées des gentils honmes, et non plus avant; il
demorassent as hostels et gardaissent lors fenmes et lors enfans, il
devoit souffire, et fesissent leur labeur et marceandise, et les nobles
useroient dou mestier d’armes, dont il estoient estruit et introduit.
Li rois de France, en istance que pour conforter la ville de Calais et
ceuls qui dedens estoient, aproça les marces de Piqardie et s’en vint
en la chité de Amiens. Et fu là le jour de la Pentecouste et toutes les
festes, et estendi ses mandemens et conmandemens parmi tout son
roiaulme, et mandoit et conmandoit très estroitement que tout
venissent sans nul delai, ses lettres veues, en la chité d’Amiens ou là
environ. Pour ces jours estoit connestables de France et usoit de
l’office messires Jaquemes de Bourbon, conte de Pontieu; et estoient
mareschal li sires de Biaugeu, qui se nonma Edouwars, et li sires de
Montmorensi, et mestres des arbalestriers, li sires de Saint Venant.
Et n’estoit mais nulle nouvelle en France de messire Godemar dou
Fai, mais estoit retrais en Normendie, sa nation, et là se tenoit sus le
sien, ne point il n’estoit en la grace dou roi.
Au mandement dou roi de France obeirent tout chil qui furent
escript et mandé, et vinrent li signeur en grant arroi, premierement li
dus de Bourgongne, li dus de Bourbon, li contes de Savoie, mesires
Lois de Savoie, son frère, messires Jehans de Hainnau, li contes de
Namur, li comte de Forois, le daufin d’Auvergne, le conte de
Boulongne, le conte de Nerbonne, le conte de Pieregorth, le conte
de Valentinois, le conte de Saint Pol, et tant de hauls barons et
signeurs que mervelles seroit à penser et detriance au nonmer. Et ne
sambloit point, quoi que la bataille de Creci euist esté en celle
année, que li roiaulmes de France ne fust ausi raemplis, apriès que
devant, de noble et poissans chevalerie, et estoient, qant il furent
tout asamblé et nombré, douse mille hiaumes.
Considerés la grant noblèce de gentils hommes, car casquns
hiaumes doit dou mains avoir cinq hommes dalés li; et estoient vingt
quatre mille arbalestriers geneuois, espagnols et hommes des chités
et bonnes villes dou roiaulme de France, tout en compte. Qant il
furent venu sus le Mont de Sangate, à deus lieues priès de Calais, il
se trouvèrent plus de cent mille hommes. Si ne furent pas sitos
venus ne asamblés, car il vinrent gens de Gascongne, tels que le
conte d’Ermignac, le conte de Fois, le conte de Berne, le conte de
Quarmain. Et tous les signeurs manda et pria li rois de France,
desquels il pensa à estre aidiés, car ce estoit se intension que il
leveroit le siège et combateroit les Englois, et pourtant faisoit il si
grandes pourveances.
Et envoia li rois de France des prelas de France et des chevaliers
pour tretiier as Flamens que il vosissent venir dalés leur signeur le
conte et faire à lui ce que il devoient, car voirement estoit li jones
contes de Flandres en celle assamblée dou roi. Li Flamenc li
remandèrent par ses gens meismes que il n’avoient point de signeur,
puisque il se absentoit de euls et ne les voloit croire, ne que pour li il
ne feroient riens, ne des rentes et revenues de Flandres il n’en
porterait nulles; et se avoir les voloit, il les venist bellement et
courtoisement despendre ou pais, et ouvrer par lor consel, mais il
n’avoit pas encores bien conmenchiet; et se il voloit perseverer en
ces opinions, il trouverait les Flamens plus durs et plus hausters que
onques n’euist fait son père.
Qant li rois de France entendi ces paroles et les responses des
Flamens, si les laissa ester, et considera assés lor manière et vei bien
que ils n’en aueroit aultre cose, et que point n’enteroit en euls sus
cel estat pour ratraire à sa volenté, fors par le moiien dou duch de
Braibant; mais pour le present, ils et ses consauls estoient cargiet de
si grant cose que à ceste des Flamens il ne pooit entendre. Si mist li
rois de France ceste cose en souffrance tant que à une aultre fois, et
entendi à voloir lever le siège de Calais.
Li rois d’Engleterre, qui se tenoit devant Calais à siège et estoit
tenus tout le temps, ensi que vous savés, et à grans coustages,
estudioit nuit et jour conment il peuist chiaus de Calais le plus
constraindre et grever; car bien avoit oy dire que ses adversaires, li
rois Phelippe de France, faisoit un très grant amas de gens d’armes,
et que il le voloit venir combatre; et si sentoit la ville de Calais si
forte que, pour asaut ne escarmuce que ils et ses gens y fesissent,
ils ne le poroient conquerre, et ces pensées et imaginations le
metoient sovent en abusions. Avoecques ce, sus son reconfort, il
sentoit la ville de Calais mal pourveue de tous vivres, car là dedens il
en i avoit ensi que riens.
Et encores, pour euls clore et tolir le pas de la mer, il fist faire et
carpenter un chastiel hault et grant de lons mairiens et de gros,
lesquels on aloit coper en la forest de Boulongne, et à force de gens
les dis mairiens on amenoit et à force de cevaus à Wisan ou là priès,
et estoient là bouté dedens la mer et aconvoiiet jusques sus le
sabelon devant Calais. Et là fu fais et carpentés li dis chastiaus, et fu
si fors et si bien bretesqiés que on ne le pooit grever. Et qant li
chastiaus fu tous ouvrés, li rois et ses consauls le fissent asseoir et
lever droit sus l’entrée dou havene, en l’enbouqure de la mer, et fu
pourveus d’espringalles, de bonbardes, d’ars à tour et d’aultres
instrumens bons et soubtieus. Et furent ordonné, pour garder le
havene et le chastiel, à la fin que nuls n’entrast ou dit havene oultre
lor volenté, soissante honmes d’armes et deux cens archiers. Ce fu li
ordenance qui plus constraindi ceuls de Calais, et qui plus tos les fist
afamer.
En ce temps enorta li rois d’Engleterre les Flamens, lesquels li rois
de France voloit mettre en tretié deviers li et le jone conte, leur
signeur, ensi que chi dessus est contenu, que il vosissent issir hors et
faire guerre avoecques lui. Et issirent des bonnes villes de Flandres
et dou tieroit dou Franch bien cent mille Flamens, et vinrent mettre
le siège devant la ville d’Aire, et ardirent et destruisirent tout le pais
de là environ, Saint Venant, Meureville, le Gorge, Estelles et le
Ventie, le Bassée et tout le pais que on dist l’Aleue. De quoi li rois de
France, qui faisoit son amas de gens d’armes, en envoia grant
fuisson en garnison à Saint Omer, à Lille et Bietune et par tous les
chastiaus, sus les frontières d’Artois et Boulenois, car on ne sçavoit
que les Flamens avoient en pensé. Mais li Flamench se retrairent
petit à petit, qant il orent fait lor escaufée, et retournèrent tous en
lors lieus. Fos 139 et 140.
P. 44, l. 22: desgarnis.—Ms. B 6: Là estoit le duc de Bourgongne,
le duc de Bourbon, le conte de Poitiers, le conte de Fois, le duc de
Normendie, aisné filz du roy, le conte d’Ermignach, le conte de
Savoie, messire Lois de Savoie ses frères, messire Jehan de Haynau,
le conte de Namur, le conte de Forès, le conte daufin d’Auverne, le
conte de Vendomme. Fos 386 et 387.
P. 45, l. 25: busioit.—Ms. A 7: musoit. Fº 156.
P. 46, l. 3: soixante.—Mss. A 8 à 10, 15 à 17: quarante. Fº 146.
P. 46, l. 12: Flandres.—Ms. B 6: environ le Saint Jehan Baptiste
l’an mil trois cens quarante sept. Et vinrent devant Ayre et y mirent
le siège. Sy y couvint le roy de Franche envoier gens d’armes. Sy
envoya de Saint Omer le duc de Bourbon, le conte daulpfin
d’Auvergne et messire Charles d’Espaigne, et dedens Aire le conte de
Danmartin, le conte de Poursien, messire Gui de Nielle, le sire de
Raineval et messire Joffroy de Digon; et ensy en toutes les fortresses
d’Artois mist bonnes gens d’armes pour les garder et deffendre
contre les dis Flamens qui furent pluiseurs fois bien reboutés. Et
exillèrent adonc les Franchois ung parc sur yeaulx que on clamoit la
Boe. Et s’en vint le roy de France demorer à la bonne chité d’Aras,
pour mieulx entendre à deffendre le conté d’Artois. Fos 388 et 389.
P. 46, l. 14 et 15: le Gorge.—Ms. A 7: la Gorge. Fº 156.—Mss. A 20
à 22: la Gorgue. Fº 234.
P. 46, l. 15: Estelles.—Mss. A 15 à 17: Estoilles.—Mss. A 20 à 22:
Esterres. Fº 234.
P. 46, l. 15: le Ventie.—Mss. A 15 à 17: la Ventre. Fº 163 vº.—Mss.
A 23 à 33, B 3: le Ventre. Fº 181.
P. 46, l. 16: l’Aloe.—Mss. A 20 à 22: l’Aleue. Fº 234.—Ms. B 3:
l’Alues. Fº 146.—Ms. B 4: l’Aleues. Fº 137 vº.
P. 46, l. 17: Tieruane.—Ms. A 29: Quant le roy Philippe entendi ces
nouvelles, il en fu tout courroucé.